Surah folded her arms, bored. “Is that a threat? It’s not veryimaginative.”
Lavinia didn’t reply, just studied her one moment longer then left. Surah waited a few minutes before speaking. “Lana?”
A disembodied voice of indeterminate age filled the air. “How may I serve, O FearlessLeader?”
“Lana, change the entrance codes and set to eye printverification.”
“Clearance level 5A is required torequest-”
Surah rattled off the access code, a little smug–it had taken three days and a huge favor to get thatclearance.
“Requestaccepted.”
Perfect. “Dim lights to twenty percent and turn on focus playlistthree.”
“Requestaccepted.”
Classical music filled the air, the crooning male tenor and jarring electrical guitar beat energizing. She sighed, sitting back in herchair.
The next gargoyle who came to ask her to commit treason had betterknock.
* * *
“Should have toldme you weren’t in the mood for company,” Kausar said, voicegruff.
Malin turned and left the balcony off the kitchen, the blades of his shoulders itching. His old weapons master was required to stay indoors where the bright beat of sunlight wouldn’t blind his eyes. This far up in the sky, there were no trees or buildings to block that mad orb. Several miles away, the Space Needle cowered under the shadow of his manmade aerie. A half block away–the required distance he’d negotiated with the city, an air trolley full of tourists pointed, snapping photos with their wrist units. The flashes annoyed him, but he was used to it; he was Seattle’s only resident billionaire gargoyle after all. And the only gargoyle who came out so readily during the day. Kausar was a strong, purebred gargoyle; Malin wasweak.
Malin smiled, no humor in the expression. He was impervious to sun these days, even with Surah’s experimenting and relentless insistence that he ‘take hismeds.’
“I’m not the best company even on a good day, old friend,” Malin said. “But your presence here is welcome. It reminds me ofhome.”
A home he was no longer part of, except on the very peripheral of what being the brother of the ruling Prince required. Brother to the Prince, when oncehehad ruled. He didn’t quite regret leaving behind the command of the host. But spending his days surrounded by humans, even high-powered, high-energy, faultlessly intelligent humans…grated.
“You in pain?” Kausar asked, always blunt. He was the only one, besides Surah, who referred to Malin’s genetic illness with open candor. Like a soldier. But then, Kausar didn’t think he was any weaker than a warrior with an old warinjury.
“It’s nothing.” He set his water bottle down on a counter. “Surah does what shecan.”
“That girl’s a warrior,” Kausar replied, stern warmth in his voice. He adored the ‘girl’, though he’d never let anyone know. Was as close to a father to her as any male had been–and had trained her along with Malin and Geza. “Needs a mate. Prince trying to give her off to one of his…warriors.” Kausar’s sneer was brief, butgenuine.
“Who?”
His weapons master gave him a wary, calculated look. “Eh, not telling you, boy. You’ll start awar.”
“Why would I dothat?”
“You want the girl. Don’t know why you won’t take her. You’re as good a male as any. Better. And she lovesyou.”
“Like abrother.”
Kausar snorted. “Didn’t think the disease affected your brains, but I guess it does. Too damnbad.”
“I practically raised her,Kausar.”
He glanced up at the ceiling. “Been around humans too long. That makes you even better for her–you already know her, and she’s comfortable with you. Would you rather she be used as a wife by a stranger? Or loved by a male with her best interests atheart?”
It was a sign of his wavering resolve that Malin didn’t protest the word love. He might have, even a year ago. But he was tired, and Surah’s company soothed him, and he just wanted some peace, some comfort before he completely succumbed to the daylight. With her half-human blood, she could exist in both worlds as he did, and not look at him with scorn when he could no longer shift and fly the nightskies.
“I’ll think about it,” Malin said. “I don’t know what to say toher.”
